


they were her words

by merrymegtargaryen



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:11:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/merrymegtargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Capable/Angharad drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. here is the place where i love you

Capable has said the words I love you more times than she can count. To her mothers, to her brother, to the first girl she fell in love with and the last boy she kissed before the Immortan took her as his bride. She is no stranger to the way the words feel on her tongue, the way they sound when they tumble from her lips.

But when she tries to tell Angharad I love you, her heart stops beating and the words come to a crashing halt on her tongue. This isn’t like the other times. There’s no guarantee Angharad will say it back, nowhere for Capable to hide if she doesn’t. And if the Immortan ever found out…

“What is it?” Angharad breathes, her fingers curling around Capable’s. It is almost too dark to see, and Capable is glad for it.

“I need to tell you something,” she murmurs.

“You can always tell me anything,” Angharad promises. “You know that, Capable.”

She breathes (in, out) and tries again. This time the words tread slowly, carefully off of her lips. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I can’t imagine a life without you, and…I’m so afraid.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and Capable waits for the feeling of Angharad recoiling. Instead, her hand threads itself through Capable’s hair, her thumb brushing her cheek as she presses their foreheads together. “Oh, my darling girl,” she murmurs. “I’ve loved you for so long–I thought you knew.”

Capable trembles even as her eyes fill with childish tears, and as soon as Angharad feels them she kisses them away. “It doesn’t have to hurt,” she explains. “You don’t have to be afraid.” Capable nods, still trembling, and Angharad holds her tight until the trembling stops. “My darling. My dearest,” she hums. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The tears start afresh, and Capable buries her face in Angharad’s shoulder to hide them. “Please don’t ever leave me,” she begs.

“Never,” Angharad promises.

They fall asleep wound so tightly around one another that they looked as if they were made that way. Maybe they were.


	2. sweat

Capable tromps in from the garage covered in grease and sweat. She drags her arm over her face and wishes, not for the first time, that she could just be like Furiosa and cut off all her hair. But if she did that, Angharad could never braid it, and that alone is worth the sweat and stick.

“Someone’s been busy,” Angharad greets with a smile, setting aside the bowls she’s been drying.

“I need to talk to Hammer about a ventilation system for the garage.” Capable pushes her hair off of her forehead. “It’s unbelievable in there.”

“Here, let me just–” Angharad uses her rag to wipe at a grease smudge on Capable’s nose. When it’s clean, she presses a kiss to the end of her lover’s nose.

“Don’t, I’m all messy,” Capable says, shying away, but Angharad hooks a finger in her belt loop and tugs her back.

“I like you messy,” she murmurs, kissing her lips. Capable shudders out a sigh, curling her fingers into the palms of her hands so that she doesn’t touch Angharad and get her sweat and grease on her. Angharad takes her hands and puts them on her anyway.

“I’ll get you dirty–” Capable protests.

“Then we’ll just have to take a bath together. What a shame.” Angharad kisses a smile into Capable’s lips, tugs at their clothes until they are bare and pulls Capable against her until there is nothing between them but skin and sweat. By the time they collapse in a heap on the floor, Angharad is just as sweaty and greasy as Capable.


	3. just a moment

It wasn’t often that they got to escape from the Citadel and go on a bike ride, but when they did, they always made the most of it. Today, they packed a satchel of food, green taken from Dag’s garden and a canteen of water. Capable secured the satchel while Angharad tied back her long hair. They climbed onto the bike, Angharad wrapping her arms around Capable’s waist while the redhead eased her goggles over her eyes. She kicked the bike into gear, and with a hum from Angharad, they rolled out of the garage. Capable wove around the construction, the bike rumbling over the sand, until they were out of the Citadel’s shadow and away from people. Then Capable revved the bike and they tore out to the desert.

They rode for what felt like hours, the sun and wind and sand and their own hair whipping all around them. Several times Angharad pressed kisses to Capable’s neck and cheek, and several times Capable dropped one hand from the handlebars to touch the tips of her fingers to Angharad’s hands.

They stopped on a sand dune, high enough up that they could see the wasteland around them. They spread out a blanket and peeled off their extra layers, pulling the water canteen and green out of the satchel. They talked and laughed and ate, and when the green was gone Angharad untied her hair and lay her head in Capable’s lap. Capable hummed, threading her fingers through Angharad’s hair and weaving it and unweaving it and combing her fingers through it until Angharad fell asleep. Then Capable curled up beside the other woman, draping an arm around her waist and burying her head in her shoulder.

When they drifted out of sleep, the sun hung low in the sky and they were a tangle of hair and limbs. Angharad rolled over to her other side, giving Capable a sleepy smile as she took her in. Capable reached up, brushing some of Angharad’s hair behind her ear.

“In one of the books in the Vault, I read a story where the sun stopped in the sky to give a warrior more time,” Capable murmured. “I wish the sun could stop for us, just so we could stay here and now for a while longer.”

Angharad hummed and kissed Capable’s fingers. The redhead shifted closer and kissed her, tangling herself into Angharad once more. They lay like that for a while longer, kissing and kissing and kissing.

When the sun began to set, they looked at each other in unspoken agreement: it was time to go back.

They shrugged back into the warmer wrappings they wore whenever they rode and folded up the blanket, stopping to kiss whenever they met at the corners. Angharad tied her hair back as Capable packed up the satchel, and when they were ready Capable put her goggles back on and kicked the bike into gear. Angharad rested her head against Capable’s shoulder as they rode back to the Citadel. The sky melded into a hundred shades of blue and white and pink and purple as they went, and as nice as the late afternoon sun had been, Angharad couldn’t help wishing the sky would stay like this for a while longer.


	4. merry christmas, darling

Even standing in front of the A/C with her hair pulled back and a glass of ice water in her hand, Capable was sweating like a pig.

“I hate this country.”

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” Angharad sang, pressing a kiss to Capable’s cheek as she passed by. The redhead made a farting sound. “I know, babe, I’m miserable too.”

“You’re the one who wanted to move to Australia,” Capable reminded her.

“Yeah, and you’re the one who’s supposed to stop me from making poor life choices,” Angharad threw back.

“Eh.” Capable pressed the glass to her forehead again. “I like the country, I just hate this weather. It’s unnatural.”

“It’s a different hemisphere.” Angharad poured herself a glass of ice water. “But I do miss cold weather on Christmas. It’s snowing in London right now, you know.”

“Just one more week,” Capable muttered. “One more week and then we can go to the beach where we can actually do something about the heat.”

“Like swim,” Angharad said with a wistful smile.

“I was thinking making pina coladas, but that works too.”

Angharad came up behind her girlfriend and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can’t wait to get you in a bikini,” she whispered.

“I can’t wait for you to get me out of it,” Capable whispered back, turning her head to kiss her girlfriend. She was just thinking they might have to move to the back room when the bell over the door jingled and they leapt apart.

“I’m pretty sure there are OSHA regulations about employees feeling each other up where they prepare FOOD,” Toast sniped.

“Does Australia have OSHA?” Capable asked, pressing the dripping glass of ice water to her cheeks.

“You know what I mean.” Toast came behind the counter and pulled on her apron. “Max is out by the pool, and I never thought I’d say this, but I can see why Furiosa wants to bang him. The man is an Adonis.”

“Too bad he’s not coming to the beach with us,” said Capable.

“Please, like you’d stop making out with Angharad long enough to notice him.”

The two girlfriends kissed as if to prove Toast’s point.

“Anyway,” Toast said loudly, turning on the Christmas Pandora station. The first song that came up was “White Christmas”. “Man, fuck this noise.”

Capable and Angharad laughed.


	5. things you said when we were the happiest we ever were

Sometimes, if Capable closes her eyes, she can pretend she’s somewhere else. Somewhere green, with water and no walls. And Angharad. Wherever she goes, Angharad is always with her.

The other woman is braiding her hair now–a ritual that almost makes it worth getting up in the mornings. Capable can braid her own hair, of course, and was the one to show Angharad how she liked it done. But they both take pleasure in it, in the way Angharad’s hands sink into the mass of red hair and weave it into something lovely and soft.

“I love your hair,” Angharad hums as she often does. “There’s so much life in it.”

“Miss Giddy says hair is dead,” Capable says, her eyelids heavy from Angharad’s ministrations.

“She hasn’t gotten a good look at yours, then,” says Angharad, and Capable laughs.

The silence stretches over them for a long, golden moment.

“Where do you go inside your head?” Angharad asks her.

“Somewhere far away.” Capable closes her eyes. “Somewhere with water and green. And no walls.”

Angharad hums. “Tell me about it.”

Capable watches her little world of make-believe grow in front of her. “There aren’t any men,” she says. “Just women. And children. Lots of children. And you’re there, and you’re braiding my hair, and afterward you kiss my head and call me your darling, your dearest.”

Angharad ties off the braid and kisses Capable’s head. “My darling, my dearest.” She sits back and pulls Capable into the space between her legs, wrapping her arms around the other woman. “We’ll find this place someday.”

“If it even exists,” Capable sighs, threading her fingers through Angharad’s.

“We’ll make it exist.” Angharad rests her head on Capable’s shoulder. “If we can make life inside of us, we can make it outside, too.”

Capable has never thought about it like that. There are a lot of things she never thought about before she met Angharad.

“What if we don’t leave together?” she whispers. “Or what if…what if we don’t leave at all?”

Angharad’s hand tightens around hers. “We will. And it will be together. I promise you, I’m not letting you go without me.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can,” Angharad says in a voice edged with fire. “And I will.”

Capable turns her head, presses her lips to Angharad’s cheek. The other woman’s skin feels hot and angry, but it softens under Capable’s mouth. “It’s all right,” Capable murmurs. “You’re all right.”

Angharad turns her head too, presses her lips against Capable’s. “I promise,” she breathes. “On my life, I promise. My darling.”

“My dearest.” Capable touches her forehead to Angharad’s, breathes in as much of her as she can. It isn’t enough, it’s never enough, but it will have to do.


	6. Mamihlapinatapei

Angharad has been staring for far too long and Capable has been staring right back and Angharad knows she has to break the silence.

“Will you read to me?” she blurts.

Capable smiles. “Of course I will.” She reads to Angharad a lot–Angharad likes the sound of her voice, the slow, measured way she speaks. She contemplates the pile of books before pulling out a faded black and gold one. “How about one of the Greek myths?”

“Fine,” says Angharad, pulling over a cushion and resting her head on it.

“Oh, I like this one,” says Capable, flipping to a page. “Orpheus and Eurydice.”

Angharad likes the story too. She watches the other woman, watches her lips form the words and her fingers push her hair from her eyes.

“‘He knew that she must be just behind him, but he longed unutterably to give one glance to make sure. But now they were almost there, the blackness was turning gray; now he had stepped out joyfully into the daylight. Then he turned to her. It was too soon; she was still in the cavern. He saw her on the instant she was gone. She had slipped back into the darkness.. All he heard was one faint word, “Farewell.” Desperately he tried to rush after her and follow her down, but he was not allowed. The gods would not consent to his entering the world of the dead a second time, while he was still alive. He was forced to return to the earth alone, in utter desolation.’“ Capable’s voice catches. “It makes me so sad.”

“That they could never be together again?” Angharad murmurs.

“That he couldn’t wait to look at her again. Hades and Persephone must have known he wouldn’t be able to wait that long. That’s why they let him take her–they knew he’d turn around too soon and look. If he had just waited a moment longer…”

“Can you blame him?” Angharad asks. “It’s hard not to look at the one you love.” She meets Capable’s gaze, and the silence seems to stretch for an age.

Capable surprises both of them by leaning down and brushing her lips against Angharad’s.

“Would you look back if it was me?” Angharad whispers.

“Yes,” Capable murmurs. “I love you too much not to.”

Angharad pulls her down beside her and kisses her again. She hopes it never comes to that.


	7. The Queen's Favorite

She was the queen’s favorite. The queen loved all her ladies-in-waiting, kept them around her always, but the redhead never left her side. She even slept in the queen’s bed, waited in the adjoining chamber when the king made his marital visits–unless he asked her to stay. He lay with most of the queen’s ladies–that was how he had found Angharad. She had been a lady-in-waiting, and when he tired of his wife he divorced her and married Angharad.

When she was found with child, Capable drew the covers over their heads and whispered.

“None of the king’s wives have given him a healthy heir. If he doesn’t divorce them, they mysteriously die.”

“What if,” the queen whispered, so quietly Capable had to press her ear to her mouth, “it was the king who mysteriously died?”

Capable came to the king’s bed not long after.

“The queen is too tired to perform her wifely duty,” she said. “She asked me to come in her stead.”

When the king was found dead in his bed the next morning, the physicians said it was a heart attack. He left no heir, but for the child in Angharad’s belly.

“You will be Queen Regent until your child is of age,” said Capable. “Rictus and Corpus will try to stop you, of course, and they might be able to muster up an army who would rather bastard sons on the throne than a pacifist queen regent, but most of the kingdom will favor an end to the war.”

“Send Furiosa to…pacify them,” Angharad decided. “Then send her as an envoy to our neighbors. I want an end to all this fighting. My baby will not be a warlord.”

Capable pulled the covers over their heads. “Long live the queen,” she whispered.

Angharad smiled.


	8. flatmate wanted: no heterosexuals

he door swung open and Capable was speechless. The woman standing in front of her was probably the most beautiful she had ever seen. The right side of her face was covered in pale scars, but rather than detract from her beauty they only added to it.

“Yes?” the woman asked.

Capable blinked. “Sorry, um, I’m here about the ad–we texted?”

“Oh, right! Come on in,” the woman said, swinging the door wide open. “I’m Angharad, and you’re Capable?”

“Yeah.” Capable took in the flat. It was messy, but cozy. Angharad walked her through the living room, which was quite messy, the kitchen, which was even messier than the living room, and the bathroom, which was messier still. The room that would be Capable’s if it worked out was mostly in boxes, but it was a good size. It was right across from Angharad’s room, and Capable tried not to get too excited about the thought.

“So, I think that’s about it. Do you have, um, any questions for me?” Angharad asked.

“Actually, yeah. Are all of you lesbians, or…?” Please say you’re not straight.

“None of us are straight,” Angharad clarified. “You’re not, are you?”

“God, no,” Capable said with more venom than she intended.

Angharad laughed. “Good. So…are you still interested?”

It took Capable a moment to realize she meant the flat. “Yes, definitely!”

Angharad beamed. “Good. Furiosa’s moving out this Saturday–how soon do you want to move in?”

“Honestly? Today,” Capable laughed.

Angharad raised her eyebrow. “Do you have any furniture or anything?”

Capable tapped the backpack slung over her shoulder. “This is it.”

Angharad’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s all you have?”

“Yeah, I, uh…” Capable swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m kind of homeless, on account of my abusive ex kicking me out.”

Angharad’s face turned stony. “Look, you can sleep in Furiosa’s room. She’ll be spending the night at her boyfriend’s place anyway,” she said before Capable could protest. “Seriously, that’s why she’s moving out, she’s never here anymore. And she’ll understand. We’ve all had shitty exes.” She put a hand on Capable’s shoulder. “Come on, move in with us.”

Capable thought about it for a moment. She dropped the backpack on the floor. “Consider me moved in.”

Angharad beamed, and Capable couldn’t help beaming back.


	9. The Trail's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bonnie and Clyde AU nobody asked for

They meet at a rundown diner on a rundown road in a rundown side of town. Capable’s a waitress with bags under her eyes and Angharad’s just been released from prison. One of the sheriff’s deputies is giving Capable a hard time, and she’s used to it, but the woman with scars on her face isn’t. She knocks him out and looks at the redhead with fire in her eyes and blood on her lips.

“You gotta go,” Capable tells her, swallowing. “You gotta get out of town.”

The other woman doesn’t say anything, just holds out her hand.

Capable looks at the diner, looks at the dusty road that stretches for miles and miles. Then she wads up her apron and throws it on top of the deputy, taking Angharad’s hand and running.

“I think,” says Capable, watching the miles of road kick up dust behind them, “This is the start of something beautiful.”

Capable has never left Dallas, but they’re out of Texas by the end of the week. They rob banks and convenience stores, steal guns and liquor and whatever else they feel like.

“Why do you do this?” Capable asks in a dingy hotel room one night.

“Because the system hurts people like us. And I don’t know about you, but my mama always taught me to fight back when somebody hurts me.” Angharad grinds the butt of her cigarette in the ashtray. “What are you writing?”

“A poem,” says Capable. “About a girl who runs away from home.”

She thinks Angharad might laugh at her–what kind of woman steals guns and liquor and writes poetry about sad little girls? But Angharad curls up beside her and eases her head onto her shoulder. “Read it to me.”

Capable reads all her poems to Angharad. When they’re caught by the police and thrown into prison, Capable pushes her folded-up poems through the bars of Angharad’s cell, pays the other girls in cigarettes and lipstick to do it for her sometimes. When they finally get out they hit the road again, and this time they bring three of the prison girls with them–Toast, Dag, and Cheedo. They raise hell and move too fast to get caught and before long they’re America’s Girl Bandit Sweethearts. They leave behind a roll of film at their hideout in Joplin and the newspapers publish their photos, five women leaning on a car with rifles in their hands and cigars in their mouths. There’s one of Capable resting on Angharad’s hip looking happier than she’s ever been in her entire life.

They kidnap an undertaker not long after that. “What do you do, son?” Capable asks, lighting a cigarette. When he tells her, she laughs. “Maybe you’ll work on my body someday.”

They leave him in Arkansas, three hundred miles from where they picked him up. “Would you please tell the papers that I don’t smoke cigars? I only did it for a laugh,” Cheedo explains before they tear off and leave him in the dust.

Cheedo gets caught before long, and so do Dag and Toast. Angharad takes a bullet to the leg and no matter how fast they go, it isn’t fast enough anymore. They stop sleeping in hotels and eating in diners, start sleeping in the car and bathing in cold streams and eating what they can get when they can get it.

“This isn’t life,” Capable murmurs, her pen scratching against her notebook.

Angharad nestles beside her under the blanket. “Read it to me.”

Capable hesitates, but there isn’t anything she could hide from Angharad.

“The road gets dimmer and dimmer

sometimes you can hardly see.

But it’s fight man to man

and do all you can,

for they know they can never be free.”

“It’s good,” Angharad says after a long moment. “You should send it to the papers.”

“I always did wanna get published,” Capable says with a smile. Angharad laughs and kisses her and Capable doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of it.

They’re in Louisiana planning to meet up with Toast when it happens. They see her father’s truck by the side of the road and see Toast, but they don’t see the posse hiding in the bushes and the gun pointed at Toast’s back until it’s too late.

“DRIVE!” Toast screams before gunfire rips through the air.

They don’t stand a chance. No one knows which bullet kills who first, but Toast swears she hears Capable scream when Angharad slumps over. 

The man they took hostage once upon a time comes back to inter their bodies, and somewhere Capable is laughing. Hundreds of people flock to their funerals, Pretty Boy Floyd and John Dillinger send flowers, and every paper in Texas publishes Capable’s poem.


	10. The Craft

"I have too many books,” Capable announced, trying to maneuver her locker closed.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Angharad said, still leaning against the locker.

In seconds, a wide-eyed boy in their biology class appeared at her side. “Hi Capable,” he said breathlessly. “Can I carry your books?”

Capable shot Angharad a look. “Oh, thanks, Nux, you’re so sweet.” She tipped the books into his open arms and slammed her locker shut. She linked arms with Angharad and set off down the hall, Nux tripping after them. “You can’t keep doing that,” she whispered.

“Why not? It’s fun. And look, he’s having a good time.”

It was true, Nux had a rapturously empty look on his face. They always did when Angharad got hold of them.

Capable and Angharad took their usual seats with Toast, Dag, and Cheedo. Nux eagerly tipped the books onto the table and waited.

“Thank you, Nux,” Capable said, elbowing Angharad.

“Oh, right. Thanks,” Angharad said with a careless wave of her hand.

Nux immediately went to his seat. A funny look crossed his face and he shook his head.

“I wish I could control boys like that,” Cheedo whispered.

“No you don’t,” Capable said. “It’s mean.”

“It’s fun,” Dag snorted. “And it’s not like it hurts them.”

“Then you’re doing it wrong. I love hurting them,” Toast said. At the look on Cheedo’s face, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, I’m kidding. They just…conveniently don’t bother me anymore. That’s all.”

“That’s nothing,” Angharad said quietly. “Remember when Principal Moore fell down the stairs?”

“You did that?” Cheedo gasped.

“You shouldn’t hurt people,” Capable hissed. “Whatever you send out there you get back times three.”

“Believe me, he was sending out—I was only giving back,” Angharad said fiercely. “I was doing the world a favor.”

“It’s not for you to judge,” Dag said, doodling on her arm. “That’s for Manon.”

“I know, I know—the only good or bad is in the heart of the witch and life keeps a balance of its own.” Angharad dropped her chin into the palm of her hand. “But what’s the point of having powers if you can’t use them for your own benefit?”

“There are plenty of non-destructive things you can do with your powers, as I keep reminding you,” Capable said. “Have you been meditating?”

“No,” Angharad admitted.

“We’ll all meditate after school,” Dag decided. “It’ll be good for us. And we can practice glamor charms after.”

Everyone fell quiet as the teacher began talking, but Capable wasn’t done. “You really should be careful,” she whispered to Angharad. “I’m worried something will happen to you. Something bad.”

“Nothing will happen to me as long as you’re there,” Angharad said, squeezing her hand under the table. Capable gave her a stern look and she sighed. “I’ll be better. Promise.”

The clock stopped and everyone in the room froze as Capable kissed her.

“I like that trick,” Angharad decided.


End file.
